Member-only story
A Woman’s Longing for Softness in a Lover
Where is there refuge in loving a man?
Softness
I dream of it endlessly in this hard, sharp world. Something that gives beneath the pressure of my fingers. Something that catches and cradles the vulnerable. Something that accepts and receives.
Softness
I long for it in the most impossible of places. The places where I fear it does not exist.
Softness
If I touch a stone, will it tremble? If I lean against a tree, will it embrace me?
Softness
If I reach out for a man, will I find welcoming edges? If my palm meets his, will I find warmth?
Softness
There is a well in the woods that I always find empty. What would it feel like to venture there again and draw water for the first time?
Softness
A tendril of hair caught on a callous adorning the finger upon which it is wrapped.
Softness
The velvety, tender skin of breast protected from a stubbly cheek by the most earnest set of lips navigating that terrain so carefully.
Softness
